AT THE CITY GATES 63 



come to light. In such an establishment, even if 

 it be only an old-fashioned straw skep, perhaps 

 more than twenty thousand individuals are located ; 

 and obviously some regular system of cleaning and 

 scavenging is indispensable. This work can be 

 seen now, going on uninterruptedly in the midst 

 of all the other busy enterprises. Every moment 

 bees come labouring out, bearing particles of refuse, 

 which they throw over the edge of the foot-board, 

 and at once shoulder their way back for another 

 load. Other bees appear, carrying the bodies of 

 comrades who have died in the hive ; and every 

 now and then one comes struggling through the 

 crowd, bearing high above her a strange and 

 ghastly thing, perfect replica of herself, but white 

 throughout, save for its black beady eyes. This 

 is the unborn bee, dead in its cradle-cell. Infant 

 mortality is an evil not yet overcome even by the 

 doughty honey-bee, and many are carried out 

 thus, especially in early spring. Watching these 

 undertakers of the hive in their gruesome but 

 necessary work, a singular fact can be noted. 

 While all other debris is merely cast over the 

 brink of the entrance-board, where it accumulates 

 day by day on the grass below, these dead larvae 

 are never disposed of thus. They are carried right 

 away, their bearers taking wing and flying straight 

 off over the hedgerow, to drop them at harmless 

 distance from the neighbourhood of the hive. 

 There is still another kind of work going briskly 



